Angels of the Crossroads
by Strannik
Summary: Sequel to CHRONICLES OF ECTO. Chapter 5: The mastermind behind all of Shion's recent troubles puts his cards on the table. Meanwhile, Shion gets an unxpected ally
1. Chapter 1: Too Many Triangles

ANGELS OF THE CROSSROADS

By Strannik, Master of Unorphodoxy

**Synopsis:**  Angles of the Crossroads is a sequel to yet-to-be-completed Chronicles of Ecto. It is the third book of the saga of experiences and adventures of Shion Komine, an original character created by Post. The story takes place approximately two years after the previous book. In order to understand what's going on in this story, I recommend reading Between the Walls , a tale that started at all.  Reading Chronicles of Ecto might help, too. 

I would like to thank Post for taking time to provide me with useful background information and summaries of the future installments of this saga. And of course, I would like to thank him for creating Shion Komine, without whom I wouldn't be writing this in the first place.

**Disclaimer**:  Shion Komine is created by Post and used by yours truly with his exclusive permission. Ali Madison is my original character, with all the rights and privileges involved.****

**Author's Note: **The following chapter shamelessly mocks a certain Cajun. You have been warned.  

**Chapter 1:** Too many Triangles. 

It was a small, sleepy nightclub. Round, wooden, weary tables were scattered throughout the room, each one flanked by at least two chairs. A man cloaked in a dark trench coat, a red scarf and an old-fashioned hat sat nearby, completely absorbed by what happened on the stage. And who could blame him. Illuminated by a soft white glow and draped in a sparkling green dress, the eternally beautiful Rogue Darkholme was singing her heart out.

The gentle, riveting tune flowed from her lips, revealing a tale of a vampire who lost her way.  I sat there, transfixed. How long has it been since I heard Rogue singing? I wasn't sure. All I knew was I received a very rare gift. I wasn't about to waste it. 

"Can I join you?"

_Huh? What? Who dares to interrupt my Rogue-induced haze!_

The perpetrator turned out to be a blond-haired, slightly chubby, well-build guy in a stereotypical red-and-white jock outfit. He reminded me of a former beau of a certain empathic redhead. 

"I am Cody Robbins," he said, offering his hand. He had none of Duncan's I-am-God-and-you-are-not swagger. With a simple greeting, he seemed to say: "_I am who I am, and I am pleased to meet you_." 

I shook Cody's hand:

"Shion Komine, at your service."

"Have you been here long?" Cody asked, taking a seat

That was a good question. How long was I here? I couldn't remember.

"No, not really," I said just in case.

"You poor soul," Cody smiled, making me even more confused, "but look on the bright side - at least you get to enjoy the music." 

I couldn't argue with that.

"She is a very special girl, you know. No matter how much makeup she puts on or how much she tries to keep people away, you just can't help but notice it."

At this point, alarms inside my head were making a racket worthy of the entire Bayville Police Force

"Wait a minute! You _know_ Rogue?"

"Well, not really. I saw her a few times between classes. She wasn't the most social person, you know. I did ask her to a dance once, but," he smiled ruefully," that didn't end too well."

I didn't know if I should be shocked or confused. In all our time together, Rogue never mentioned any Cody Robbins. Not that she was under obligation to remember all the people that had a crush on her. It's just that… well; I felt that she should have told me anyway. 

I couldn't believe it.  I was actually jealous of some guy I just met. This was ridiculous. Idiotic. Weak.  I told myself I should know better.

I just wished I could believe it.

Meanwhile, Cody continued talking, oblivious to my stupid turmoil:

"…I thought I was alone until I bumped into Mr. Cranston over there, " he motioned in the direction of the cloaked figure, "He told me that he was guarding something important (he wouldn't tell me what). He asked me to help him. I didn't see any harm in it, so I agreed. Next thing I knew, a bunch of weirdoes with powers right out of comic books started showing up. They called themselves _mutants_. For the most part, they fight each other until they are too tired to move, declare truce, and, as soon as a new mutant shows up, they start fighting again. Me, I just try to stay out the way…."

At this point, my brain finally woke up and put the two and two together:

"So what you're telling me is that we are inside Rogue's subconscience?"

"Well, pretty much," Cody nodded. 

"Wait, that's not right! I didn't get zapped by her, at least not recently… "

"Are you sure about that?"

"Very."

Suddenly, the singing stopped. Rogue noticed me:

"Shion?" she demanded, shocked,  "What are you doing here?"

Oh crap! How was I going to explain this one?

I got up. Next thing I knew, sparks were flying out of my eyes. My head felt like it hit one of Danger Room's "Sentinels". A hurt, outraged voice on my right cried:

"Jeez, Shion, watch where you're going! People could get hurt, you know. Like me." 

Well, at least I wasn't the only victim.

I opened my eyes. My poor roommate was rubbing his forehead. I considered firing off a few cannonball jokes, but the more rational part of me decided that it probably wasn't going to help.

"You alright?" I asked cautiously.

"Yeah," Sam nodded weakly, "at least you're awake. You had me worried there for a minute."

"Sorry. I just took a trip into the twilight zone. It was full of nostalgic jocks and trench-coated music lovers. I loved the soundtrack, though. "

Sam stared at me blankly.

"Don't ask – I don't get it either.'

"Just don't do it again, OK?"

I shrugged. I had enough experience with Rogue-related dreams to know that this definitely wasn't one of them. I just hoped it was a freak accident. Last thing I needed right now was a new power.

"How is your head?" I asked, changing the subject 

"It's been worse."

I smiled:

"Think of it as a payback for all the times I had to get out bed just so you could take a midnight pee."

"What about all the times you woke _me_ up?"

"What times?" I asked innocently

Sam froze in his tracks as he tried to remember anything that might fit the bill.  Confident that I had nothing to worry about it, I got dressed and started recharging the backup power cells for my watch. 

Two minutes later, Sam conceded defeat:

"Damn… you are good." 

A few minutes later, we headed downstairs, hoping that we might actually get some breakfast. Sam was telling me something about Jubilee and some guy who was flirting with her, but I wasn't paying attention. My mind kept on drifting back to my trip to Rogue's subconscience. Who was the guy in the trench coat? Why didn't he (or Cody, for that matter), show up when Rogue's powers went ballistic a few months ago?  How did I get inside Rogue's head in the first place? 

"Shion, are you listening to me!" Sam demanded

I was about to apologize when I saw a tall man with a dark, crimson eyes walking towards us. To him, a brown duster was not just a fashion choice. It didn't matter if he was clad in casual clothes or a battle uniform. He clung to it like a ghost clings to it's bed sheet.  His name was Remy, but he preferred to be called Gambit. Either way, he was a major pain in the ass. 

"Shion," he proclaimed confidently

 "Remy," I echoed without missing a beat

Cue the western standoff music.   

Remy had his energy manipulation. I had my "ghost form" and a little mind control on the side. We were both good at hand-to-hand combat. If it came down to it, the fight would of probably gone either way. 

I knew it wouldn't happen. Not now and probably not ever.   

Remy was convinced that he was destined to be with a certain gothic belle. I knew that his feelings were sincere, but after all that happened between me and Rogue, I was a little skeptical. As much as we wanted to kick each other's behinds, we knew that would only make us look like idiots. And so, ever since Remy moved into the mansion, an awkward truce persisted. 

Hey, if Soviet Union and United States can keep it up for fifty years, so can we. 

Except Soviet Union collapsed in the end…

Sometimes, I wonder why I even bother talking to myself.  

"So, you slept well, oui?" Remy asked casually. 

For a brief second, I wandered if he knew something about my latest misadventure, but then I realized he was just trying to kill the silence. 

I shrugged:

"Yeah. Listened to some good music in a company of a very lovely lady. You?"

"Gambit don't know about music " he grinned slyly, "but dere was a lovely lady…. "

Was he pushing my buttons? I couldn't be sure. 

"Business as usual for you, I guess."  I mumbled 

"Non… Why stick wit' dreams when you can have a real t'ing, oui?"

Maybe he was trying to start something. Maybe he wasn't. Either way, he was really starting to bug me.   

"I have both," I fired back. "What about you?"

"All in due time, " Gambit smiled. "All in due time."

"Don't do it, Shion," Sam urged. "He is not worth it"

"No worries," Gambit taunted, "what's he goin' to do – talk me to death?"

Before Sam could stop me, I shifted my stance, preparing to deliver a quick sidekick where it counted. 

"Well, he can make you do the Macarena in front of Professor's office, but I don't think Shion is _that _cruel."  

Ladies and gentlemen, the queen of chaos has arrived. 

Everything about her was a little over the top. Her hair looked like it was about to burst in all directions. Her ears were riddled with shiny earrings.  Although she didn't abuse her make-up like she used to, it still looked like she went a little overboard.  

She walked past Gambit, brushing him aside like a tasteless coat rack. In a flash, she was by my side. Dressed in well-worn hip-hugging jeans and a tight top, she was a vision of casual playfulness.      

"Hi Tabi," I smiled, "been there long?"

"Long enough," she winked, "as for you, card-boy, you really should clean that bathrobe of yours. It's getting filthy."

Tabitha and I exchanged high-fives.  Sam snickered

"Gambit t'inking you're jealous," my once-annoying nemesis replied, struggling to maintain his composure.

"Nah, just bored," Tabitha replied, dismissing him with a wave of a hand, "anyway, I gotta go. I'll see you guys at breakfast."

She gave me a quick "there-will-be-surprise-in-Gambit's-meal-I-promise" look and headed downstairs, humming something fast and whimsical. 

"Unbelievable," Gambit mumbled in bemused wonder, "she likes him. Don't know why, but she likes him… "

"Oh, shut up," I moaned in my best British accent, "come, my dear Sam, the munchies wait for no one."

"Well, it's about time," smiled my faithful roommate, "I was getting worried I'll have to beg Jubilee for cookies again."

"Now, we can't have that. Or can we…"

Sam shook his head:

"Just go."

By the time we arrived at the dining room, the breakfast was well underway. Jean and Scott sat in the far corner of the table, their food forgotten. Kitty, Kurt, Amara and Lance took turns making fun of them. Hank McCoy was sitting in the other corner of the table sipping some coffee. Bobby and Jamie were fighting over the cartoons section of "Daily Bayville". Logan was standing by the refrigerator, reading the suspiciously covered magazine. Jubilee was challenging every speed record known to men as she tried to eat her pancakes and finish her homework before she had to go to school.   

"Well, this is where I get off," said Sam as he headed to comfort his girlfriend, "see ya later, dude."

I stretched out my hand, quickly changing anchors. I like Jubilee and Sam, I ready do. It's just that sometimes, I can't stand to be around them. A firecracker and a cannon ball – a hazardous combination, methinks. 

Now, who did I anchor myself to? 

BZZT!

Next thing I knew, I was yanked off my feet and dragged towards the exit. 

"Get back here, shortstuff!" bellowed Bobby as he raced in the same direction.

I had to ask.    

Meanwhile, I was dragged out of the kitchen, heading in the direction of the Grand Staircase. I tried to grab onto anything that was nailed to the floor. Except there _wasn't_ anything nailed to the floor.  I didn't have time to find another anchor, so I reached for my watch. Hopefully, once I am in the Middleverse, I could phase through the staircase. 

Before I had a chance to test that theory, a three-fingered hand grabbed me by the shirt collar. With a loud BAMF, I was teleported back to the dining room.

The residents of the Institute gathered around me, trying their best to be helpful:   

"Are you alright?" 

"Are there any bruises?"

"I hope he is not bleeding…"

"Wait until I get my hands on that squirt…"

"Hey, it could have been worse…"

"Maybe next time, he'll watch where he is aiming."

"Oh, I am _so_ going to be late for school."

What can I say: it's good to have friends.

"My pride wants to know if anyone caught the number of that truck," I said as Lance and Sam helped me up, "but other then that, I think I am alright."

"Are you sure?' asked Tabitha

  "Sure I am sure," I grinned. "Just as long as somebody gets me some breakfast. I am starving."

"Aye Aye, Ghost-boy," she saluted and went off to get something microwaved. Last time Tabitha tried cooking… let's just say it made Toad's room look like a field of roses. 

Behind me, a familiar voice with a distinct touch of Mississippi snickered:

"She sure looked excited."

"Rogue!" 

"What, you were expecting Avril Lavigne?"

She just stood there, untouched by all the commotion. She wore black boots that stopped two inches short of her ankles, a dark skirt with intricate, web-like patterns, a forest-green top with a collar, black, silky gloves and a medium-length _hôri_ with wide sleeves. This was the first time I've seen her wearing this outfit. While it wasn't quite as nice as the dress she wore in my dream, it was pretty close. 

Everybody quickly went back to their seats, giving us some space. Great. Now, I have to think. I shook myself out of Rogue-induced nirvana and replied. 

"No, though I can't say I would mind."

Rogue snickered again.

"Anyway… good morning."

"Good morning." 

We hugged. When it comes to warm and fuzzies, there wasn't much else we could do. 

"Did you have any unusual dreams?" we asked in unison. 

…

"You first," I decided

"Well, I had this weird dream where I was singing in the bar when I noticed you in the audience. Before I could talk to you, you disappeared."

Any hope that my nocturnal misadventure was just a product of my screwed-up imagination went straight down the toilet: 

"Ditto," I admitted 

"Huh?"

"_Ditto_ as in I had exactly the same dream. I don't know what's going on, Rogue."

"Don't look at me," She shrugged, " I didn't ask you to sneak into my dreams."

 "Believe me, if it was up to me, I wouldn't be anywhere near them."

"Really?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you know… never mind, okay. It's stupid."

"You think I wouldn't pass up an opportunity to get a peak inside your pretty little noggin?"

She nodded meekly.

"In case you forgot, last time I tried to do that, you punched me."

"Hey, that was different!"

"True… Oh, come on, work with me, I am trying to make a point here."

"Then you better get on with it or I might decide to hit you again."

"Well, when you put it this way…"

Rogue glared.

"I just think that sometimes, we all need a little privacy, especially in our dreams."

"Shion…."

Before Rogue had a chance to finish, Jubilee's ear-breaking howl shook the dining room:

"I don't care! Bobby is supposed to drive me to school and he is off chasing Jamie!" 

"So, what's the problem?" asked Lance

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, they hate you in school anyway. If you have a chance to miss it, I say go for it."

"Now Lance," Jean declared, switching into her teacher mode, "just because she's having a hard time doesn't mean she should miss out on important material."

"It's not that," Jubilee whispered, staring at the dining room floor "it's just that…" 

Sam looked like someone just told him all the bathrooms in Bayville were closed indefinitely. 

"It's just what?" I asked, even though I knew full well I probably didn't want to know.

"Here is your breakfast," chipped in Tabitha, handing me a trey with a cheeseburger and a glass of milk.

"Thank you very much, " I said as I took the trey.

"Oh, the best part is yet to come," grinned Tabitha as she slowly bended her fingers. Five, four, three, two, one.

With a spectacular KABOOM, Gambit's meal was splattered all over his outfit. 

"Food and entertainment, all in one," I joked, "I love it." 

"Come on, Shion, be nice," nagged Rogue. 

"Hey, it's not my fault," I shrugged, "Boom Boom over there did it all on her own."

"Damn straight!" nodded the troublemaker. With a wink and a quick smile, she headed to the guestroom. 

 I glanced at Rogue. She didn't look too pleased. 

"What? What did I do?" I asked.

"Nothing, Shion. Nothing at all."

I shook my head. I screwed up. Again.

When I am going to learn to think before I talk.

"Anyway," Jubilee's voice broke though the silence, "as I was saying…"

Before she could finish the sentence, Professor Xavier's voice filled our heads:

"All X-Men and New Mutants, report to the Briefing Room immediately."

Ever since Apocalypse was released, we had a lot of alerts. Most of them turned out to be wild goose chases. But the moment he mentioned New Mutants, I knew things were serious.

"Well, Jubes, it looks like school is going to have to wait," I commented as everybody rushed to the door, "The mighty announcer voice is calling. But look on the bright side – at least you get to miss Physics."

I had no idea…


	2. Chapter 2: Fatal Whispers

**Author's Note:  **_Obake_ is a type of Japanese ghost that likes to terrorize people. It tends to hide in dark places. 

**Author's Note 2: **I corrected the mistakes RandiRogue pointed out in her review. Personally, I wish she would have been a little more discreet about pointing them out, but a great editor is a great editor ;) 

**Chapter 2:** Fatal Whispers

The male locker room was a pandemonium. Everybody tried to get to their lockers, put on their uniforms and get into the briefing room. Logan tried his best to prepare us for this sort of thing, but when Jamie couldn't keep himself together and Scott and Lance shouted atop of their lungs trying to keep some kind of order, things were bound to get messy.  

Carefully shoving Roberto out of the way, I slipped into the Middleverse. 

I walked through the locker door and grabbed the sports bag inside. Then, I quickly opened it and pulled out my costume. 

A little over a year ago, Rogue's mommy dearest convinced everyone she was Professor Xavier and blew up the mansion. I still can't believe I once trusted that… witch. Anyway, when the dust settled, the mutants were on every TV channel and I was stuck on the other side of the Atlantic. Somehow, I would up leading a band of mutants while trying dodge homicidal accountants, power-mad mutants, bloodthirsty reporters and other assorted pleasantries. By the time this was over, I saved one of my comrades (she originally introduced herself as Liz) from certain death.  Turned out that "Liz" was actually Elizabeth "Betsy" Braddock, heir to a fortune large enough to put Tony Stark to shame. Before I went back to the good old US of A, she made a costume for me. I am not sure if she did to thank me or because she thought the original costume looked lame. Either way, I liked the design. Later, Forge tinkered with it, giving it all kinds of cool features and gadgets. The result served me faithfully ever since.

Ignoring all the people that carelessly phased through me, I quickly put on the costume. I paused for a moment as I took off my watch. No matter how many times I do it, it always comes back. A merciless, cold fear that I'll be stuck in Middleverse forever. I told it to find someone else to annoy. It slithered away without a word. It was almost too easy. Then again, I had a lot of practice. 

I put on the bracelets and the mask. I quickly checked the equipment. The cartages were full and all the throwing discs were accounted for. The lenses worked perfectly. 

I shoved my street clothes in the bag and threw it back into my locker. 

When it landed, I realized that my aim was a little off. Part of the bag wound up in Evan's locker.  

I peaked inside. His uniform was still there, exactly the way he left it. I sighed. Once upon a time, I inspired him to give school another chance. I helped him with his history homework. He tried to teach me how to skate. I was a glorious failure, but it was the thought that counted. 

Don't get me wrong. I wouldn't trade anyone in the Institute for the world. But Evan was a friend. A kind of friend who always believes in you, even when you stop believing in yourself. A kind of friend who isn't afraid to stop you from doing something completely idiotic. A kind a friend you are supposed to treasure for as long as you live. 

I couldn't help him. One time he needed me, I was powerless to do anything.

Now, Evan spends his days in the sewers while I am living comfortably in the Mansion. Most of the citizens of Bayville have no idea I am a mutant.

What does this say about me?

I shook my head, moved the bag out of Evan's locker and went to the briefing room.

I thought that after all that brooding, I would be the last one to arrive. Boy was I off. 

Avalanche was hanging by the entrance, waiting for Shadowcat. Like me, he had a new costume. Well, actually, it was a less bulky, lighter version of his original uniform with a circular "X" logo for a belt buckle. And he got rid of those ridiculous shoulder pads. I had to make fun of him for seventy-two hours straight, but hey, sometimes, the ends justify the means. 

Jubilee was talking with Cannonball. She wore a heavy yellow raincoat over her uniform. It was a birthday gift from Sam. Ever since she got it, she took every opportunity to put it on. She even wore it in battle. Thankfully, Professor convinced her to let him line it with Kevlar-crystal armor mash, or it would have been incinerated in the matter of days.  

Sometimes, I wonder if Jubilee loves her raincoat more then she loves my roommate.      

As I came closer, I realized that she and Cannonball were arguing. 

"How many times do I have to tell you," wailed Jubilee, throwing her arms in exasperation, "there is nothing between us!"

"Is that why do you always talk about him!" Cannonball retaliated, "Every day, it's Tim that, Tim this!"

"I am not!" 

Cannonball sighed loudly:

"Sometimes, I wonder why I even bother"

I was very tempted to use my powers to calm them down. But ever since I was freed from the Middleverse, I tried my best to avoid doing that to my teammates. It just didn't seem right. Besides, I was the genius who once tried to hook up Bobby and Jubilee. 

Gambit was here, too, decked in his uniform. He was desperately trying to get pieces of Tabby's in-your-face breakfast special off his duster. Once every few seconds, he cast an evil glare in Boom-Boom's direction. Boom-Boom pretended to be fascinated with the blinking lights on the opposite wall. 

Meanwhile, Rogue stood in the right corner, untouched by all the tension in the room. As I came closer, she turned her head and waved in my direction.

During my time with X-Men, I managed to hitch a ride on Magneto's orb, infiltrate Apocalypse's base, steal top-secret data from Zone 51 and walk around S.H.I.E.L.D.'s Helicarrier and no one was the wiser. But it has been a while since I was able to sneak up on Rogue.

I grinned and hit a button on my left bracelet.

"You know, some of us have rep to maintain," I chided her as I appeared out of nowhere.

Rogue shook her head:

"How much do you want to bet no one will notice you're even here until you speak up?"

"You know I won't take your money."

"Unless you have to pay for movie tickets," Rogue smiled evilly

"You are not going to let me live that one down, are you?" 

"Yep."

I spread my hands out dramatically:

"Fine, fine, be that way. I am still not going to take your money."

"Hey, as long as you pay up, I can live with that."

She can look really evil sometimes.

"I am not paying you anything."

"Now that's not fair. If you won't take my money, the least you can do is pay me."

"No. I mean, I won't bet. Not with money."

"Why not?"

"Because it's stupid and pointless."

"You're no fun…"

"No, I just don't want to bet for money."

"Then why didn't you say so in the first place?"

A pause

"Because I'm wyrd," I finally decided. "What were we talking about, anyway?"

"I have no idea."

….

"Great," I exclaimed. "Now we'll have to start all over again."

Rogue just chuckled.

We are an odd couple. I know that. People never seem to get tired of pointing it out. Seriously, though, when it comes to things like fashion, foods, music and hobbies, there isn't a whole lot we can safely agree on.  But at least when we were in battle, we had something in common. That's right, I am talking about uniforms.

Now when we first started wearing them, a certain moron  *cough*Bobby*cough* used to say: 'look at them!  They wear simular uniforms!  Awww...what a cute couple'.  Naturally, we had to hit the poor fool over the head with a mallet and explain that he made a grave error:  he assumed that Rogue and I were 'cute'. Besides…well, I guess he was kind of, sort of right about the "couple" part.

A while back, Rogue dumped me. The reasons are long, complicated and too painful to revisit at the moment. Suffice to say, we got back together. In a touching, yet somewhat weird gesture, Rogue asked Betsy to make her a new uniform. The quirky fashion designer was more then happy to oblige. 

Both of us had dark-green uniforms with lighter green patterns.   Both of us had utility belts with a set of throwing disks attached on its side. Both of us wore boots that ended two inches below our ankles. But the similarities ended there. The patterns were different shades. Mine were emerald-green, similar to the color of my forcefield. Rogue's were more forest-green, similar to the color in her original uniform. Mine covered my upper body and was shaped like a wide letter "v" with a dark-green vertical slash running through the middle. Rogue's looked like a sleeveless top. Our boots matched the colors of the patterns. My gloves covered my hands while Rogue's gloves covered her arms all the way up to her elbows. I wore a mask that covered most of my face, letting the hair stick out. Thanks to Forge's tech, the hair turned green when I put the mask on. Rogue didn't' wear any disguise. She had nothing to hide. 

The most distinguishing feature of my costume was a set of bracelets. They look like a bunch of interconnected cylinders with a more oval-shaped section connecting the two sides together. The bracelet on the left hand acted as my watch. The bracelet on the right hand housed a launcher for the cartridges concealed in both bracelets. 

"Shion," whispered Rogue

"What?" I replied quietly

"Professor is here."

She was right. Without making a sound, our enigmatic headmaster approached the main view screen. He looked at us and nodded.

Maybe I should take Rogue up on that bet after all.

I didn't get a chance to do that. The last students arrived, allowing Professor Xavier to finally begin his speech.

"Good morning, students. I called you here today because of two alarming developments."

The audience exchanged looks.

"It appears that after two months of virtual dormancy, Apocalypse has resurfaced in the vicinity of the tomb of Qin Shi Huangdi, the first Emperor of China. He was last seen entering the tomb. We have no idea what he is going to do next or how soon he is going to do it."

I gulped. All of us knew this would happen sooner or later. We just chose to pretend otherwise.

"To make matters worse, I was informed that Warren Worthington vanished from his apartment without a trace."

Now _that_ piece of information was shocking enough to elicit a gasp. The older residents of the Institute admired him. The younger residents of the mansion worshipped the ground he walked on. Even Rogue and I weren't impartial. Warren was one of the very few people who ever came even close to breaking through Rogue's shell. Me, I just thought the whole angelic wings thing was kind of cool. 

We had a few mission together. No matter what happened, Warren remained an honorable man who was willing to risk anything and everything to protect the innocents. During the height of anti-mutant hysteria, he used his fortune to establish a safehouse for innocent victims of angry mobs. I will never forget it. Now, he was missing.

I wasn't able to help one friend once. 

I would sooner die then repeat that mistake again.

 "…Cerebro could not find any trace of him," continued Professor Xavier, "To be frank with you, I am baffled." 

Where have I heard that one before?

"How about we scan for his runoffs?" I suggested

A shocked murmur swept through the room. I wondered it was because they didn't realize I was there until now or because I came up with a very good idea.

Either way, my money was safe.

If Professor was caught off-guard he didn't show it

"That's an excellent suggestion, Shion," he replied. 

A few keystrokes later, a map of New York City came up on the main screen. In a blink of an eye, a decent portion of it was covered with green lines.

"I think I can narrow it down chronologically," offered Beast. Professor gave him room.

Another minute passed and most of the green lines vanished:

"Here are the runoffs from the last few hours before Mr. Worthington's disappearance."

It was very simple to follow. Warren stopped at the airport, waited for at least an hour, left the airport, traveled all over town, stopping in museums, shops and other places I didn't recognize for extended periods of time. He went back to his apartment for the rest of the day. 

Deduction: Warren picked someone up from the airport and took that someone all over town. Since, as far as I could tell, he didn't stop by any hotel, I assumed that someone wound up spending the night at Warren's apartment. 

Rogue snickered. 

"Can you magnify it?" I asked, trying my hardest to keep the disturbingly girlish giggles at bay. 

"Sure," Beast shrugged innocently

Soon, the apartment's layout filled the screen. My suspicions were quickly confirmed.

"Way to go Angel!" yelled Iceman

"Oh, shut up!" snorted Jubilee

"Yeah, I bet he does it all the time," nodded Multiple.   

Suddenly, all eyes in the room focused on one 13-year-old.

"I mean… I wanted to say… Never mind"

"Anyway," Cyclops said in a tone that made it obvious that he was rolling his eyes beneath the visor, "this still doesn't explain anything. How could a person just vanish in thin air?"

"Especially in the middle of something this exciting," joked Boom-Boom

"SHUT UP, TABITHA!" 

Everybody scanned the room trying to locate the source of this outburst. I shook my head. From where I stood, the source was all too clear. 

"Warren is gone!" Rogue continued, her fists clenched in helpless fury, "We have idea where he is or what's happening to him. And as if that wasn't bad enough, we got an insane Hitler wannabe with a skirt fetish planning something.  So can you please just cut the crap and try to do something productive!"

"Psycho…" mumbled Boom-Boom as she looked away. Thankfully, Rogue didn't hear it.  

"We have way too many unknowns," Beast spoke up calmly, "we should try to assess the gravity of the situation before we do anything."

"We need to divide our forces into two teams," proposed Wolverine, "We have no idea what's gonna happen once we find Apocalypse, but it won't be pretty, so we'll need all the forces we can get. As for the Wing-boy… Don't get me wrong, Rogue, but he ain't a priority right now."

"Well, if it's the power we need," wondered Cyclopes, "why won't we just send Rogue and Ecto to see what's up with Angel while the rest of us handle Apocalypse." 

I could have pointed out that how many times our powers turned defeat into a victory (or, at least, a draw). I could of commented on what happened last time I went up against Apocalypse. Heck, I could have reminded him of that time I saved him from getting creamed by one of the Danger Room's "Magnebots". But I didn't. I knew Rogue was going to go no matter what and I wasn't about to let her do it alone. 

"Now wait just a minute," exclaimed Gambit, "whoever got Angel must be pretty strong, oui. Sendin' dem out alone would be suicide."

"Yeah," Boom-Boom echoed his protests, "for all we know, this could be some kind of trap! On the other hand, if a mutant with an active combat power would go with them…"

She stopped in the mid-sentence as she realized that she and Remy agreed on something. For a moment, a look of pure terror blew across her face. With a *humf*, she crossed her arms and turned away. 

I could understand why Remi protested – he wanted to protect Rogue. But Tabitha… Normally, she was the one who encouraged X-Men to go out and take stupid chances (consequences be damned). Why was she suddenly so cautious? 

"You bring up valid points," acknowledged Professor Xavier, "but I am confident that Rogue and Ecto are capable of accomplishing this mission. They certainly have a track record to prove it"

"Yeah, like that time Gambit and Shion were trapped in…" A sharp glare from Wolverine stopped Multiple in mid-sentence.

"It's settled then," my sensei said curtly. "Rogue and Ecto are going to find Angel. Everybody else, get you rears on the X-Jet. We wasted enough time already."

"I trust you'll be able to pay for the bus," said Beast.

"Well, I tried," Boom-Boom smiled as she wrapped me in a bone-crushing hug, "Take care. And if you run into one of Apocalypse's flunkies, please kick his ass for me."

Now _that_ was more like it

"Sure, just as long as you don't do anything stupid."

"I'll keep it in mind," she laughed as she released me, "Bye, Shion."

"Bye, Tabby."

Gambit approached me, his eyes trailing the shiny parts of the floor:

"Shion?"

"Yeah."

"Y' take care of Rogue, oui?"

"I will."

"Thank you."

He cast one last, longing look at Rogue, turned around and left without saying a word

"Good luck, Shion," said Cannonball, "You too, Rogue"

"Right back at ya, Sammy-boy," I smiled

The other students left, waving and offering their goodbyes as they got out the door. Avalanche asked me to look up some restaurants when I get there. Nightcrawler joked about eventful dates, earning a playful whack from his sister. Magma laughed and pulled him away. Wolverine shook my hand and told me not to get too distracted. 

As the crowd waned, I noticed that Jubilee was chatting with Shadowcat. Cannonball was nowhere in sight.

Next thing I knew, we were standing in an empty room. 

"Well…" Rogue sighed, "let's do it."

I nodded, hit the button on my left bracelet and headed back to the locker room. 

-------

A short figure clad in dark, torn jeans, long, spiked gloves, a leather cape and a black shirt inscribed with rows of Japanese kanji ran though the forest. His skin was chalk-white and his face was painted with intricate emerald patterns. His darkened lips were twisted into an equally dark smile. Everything was going according to plan.

He came up to a bright clearing with a lively waterfall. He supposed that some might find it pretty. But he learned long ago that pretty things are nothing but glitter fools use to hide their emptiness. 

"_Shinkirou_", he whispered

Suddenly, a cool breeze began to tickle his skin. He has returned to the world of the living. 

"Welcome, Obake."

The voice belonged to a tall man with thin glasses and wild black hair. His fingers were covered with rows of thin rings. He was clad in blue pants, white dress shirt and blue duster. 

Obake didn't bother to ask where that man was hiding. The Other had his ways.

"I hope you had a pleasant journey," lied Obake. The Other smiled:

"That is of no importance. I am far more interested in your progress."

"Oh, I sewed some discord, planted some doubt, made people go against the nature. You know, the fun stuff. I even made that witless hillbilly wonder about how his precious girlfriend spends his free time."

"Ah... What about our target?"

"What do you expect? She has issues. She _always_ has issues. Considering how much she cares about my misguided alternate, I can't exactly control her. But I did put some stumbling blocks in her path. "

"Speaking of your alternates – how is Ecto doing?"

"As well as he could be, I suppose. Sometimes, I swear I want to hit him on the head with something hard. He had so much to learn. So much to achieve. But he still keeps on fooling himself."

"Has he sensed you?"

"No. He doesn't suspect a thing."

"Brilliant. Congratulations, Obake. You made my day."  

"Are you sure you want to jinx it?"

The Other glared.

"I mean, _Thank you, Boss, for all your ever so limitless kindness and caring_." Obake amended 

The Other knew that Obake would never call him "master". He had too much pride. Fortunately, the Other learned to tolerate the quirks of his agents. After all, unlike some world conquerors, he didn't want to waste his days surrounded by suicidal zombies.

Sensing the echoes of his thoughts, Obake smiled. 

It was going to be a great day indeed. 

**Disclaimer:** Obake was based on Post's original concept and used by me with permission. The Other is the property of DC comics, Vertigo division. 


	3. Chapter 3: Busloads of Bad Assumptions

**Chapter 3:** Busloads of bad assumptions.

Once upon a time, Bayville was a quiet little town, like so many quiet little towns that attracted families like flies ever since the Great Suburb Explosion of the 1950's. Families used to come here all the time. But today, traffic seemed to flow in only one direction – out. 

I glanced over at the Bayville billboard. Some wise guy painted over whatever was at the bottom of the billboard and, in big red letters, wrote "MUTANT CAPITAL OF THE WORLD".

I snickered. Thanks to Betsy, I knew that Hong Kong was one place that actually deserved that title. Bayville just got better media coverage. 

Of course, that didn't stop people from running away.

I yawned. 

There was me. 

There was Rogue. 

There was luggage, a bus stop and a billboard.

The bus wasn't going to arrive for another five minutes.

And, to make things worse, I just ran out thoughts.

BOORING

Rogue signed:

"Believe me, Shion, I feel your pain."

She traded an outfit she wore in the morning for a simpler, somewhat less Gothic outfit. She wore dark baggy pants, long sleeved shirt, her ever-present spiky dog collar and a black wide-hooded jacket. A glimpse at her shirt revealed a majestic silver dragon that held the forest-green fabric in an intricate embrace. Meanwhile, the shirt's sleeves were black. If it weren't for emerald bands that framed the bracelets she wore just above her wrists, I would of thought her dark gloves were merely extensions of the sleeves.  

"It gets windy in New York," she explained when I asked her about this sudden change in wardrobe.  

Except Rogue prides herself on never changing clothes during the day - after all, it's a "Kitty thing". And she first wore that T-shirt during my last birthday. And she never let things like practicality or common sense get in the way of her fashion choices…

Something was amiss here.

"What?" Rogue looked at me strangely

"Nothing," I replied, trying my best to sound nonchalant. "Just a bunch of pointless speculation."

"Humor me."

"No thanks. I am not _that_ suicidal."

"I thought we decided we won't let stuff bottle up."

She had me there.

"Believe me, if I find out that Gambit is actually Mystique in disguise, you will be the first one to know."

Rogue allowed a hint of a smile.

"Then what is it?" she persisted.

"Well, how should I put it… remember that time I let it slip that Jubilee had a crush on Nicholas Tse?"

"Yeah, that _was_ a tad bit suicidal," Rogue acknowledged impatiently. "What's your point?"

"Simple. What's on my mind is stupid enough to earn your infamous Dutch Rub ™. I like my hair Dutch-rub-free, thank you very much."

This time, my comment earned a snicker. 

"Your hair is already a mess," Rogue pointed out

"Ah, but there is method to my messiness. You know that."

"Sure," Rogue rolled her eyes, "Toss in a few drops of gel, run your hand through it and run off before it even has a chance to dry. Some method."

"I can't believe I am getting hair advice from the ultimate shampoo addict," I commented wearily.

"You better keep your twisted thoughts away from my shampoo, Ghost-boy. "

"Only if you let my hair be, Madame Mystery. "

We looked at each other. We smiled. And suddenly, the world got just a little brighter.

The was me.

There was Rogue.

What more could you ask for?

SCREECH!

"Oh, for crying out loud!" I cried.

"Stupid bus," echoed Rogue, quickly glancing at my watch, "how dare it arrive on time!"

"We should sue somebody," I whined along with her, picking up some of our luggage.  

The door opened. 

"Mutants can't sue," Rogue retorted curtly and stepped onto the bus.

Shaking my head, I sighed and followed suit.

We quickly bought tickets and headed to the back of the bus, scanning for empty seats. Thankfully, we were in luck – six seats were completely and utterly free. This meant that we could have plenty of room and hopefully some privacy. 

I glanced at Rogue. She nodded.

"Hey, keep your greedy hands off our women, you f*cking Jap!"

Huh?

I turned around, quickly tracing the outburst to a rather bleak-looking guy in an oversized business suit. Realizing that I spotted him, he stared back menacingly.

I remembered everything that happened since the X-Men got exposed on global television. Betsy telling me how she was forced to leave everything behind because she was afraid that her family would be killed if anyone found out she was a mutant.  President McKenna assuring the public that "the US government will do everything in its power to deal with the mutant threat". A bunch of idiots burning rag dolls that looked disturbingly like Kurt. Cheerleaders using Kitty's purse for a soccer ball. Mr. Sheldon getting fired by then-Principal Kelly simply because he dared to draw parallels between the current situation and the struggle for civil rights of the 50's. Some punk tried to run Jamie over with the car because he thought no one would care…

And after all that, some suit dares to call me a Jap?

I laughed. I laughed hard. I laughed with cold, boundless abandon. I couldn't stop and, quite frankly, I wasn't sure I even wanted to. 

Suddenly, the business guy didn't look so haughty anymore. And Rogue… she simply shook her head.

 I calmed down about two minutes later. By that time, all the other passengers decided that we were both hopeless nutcases that should be avoided at all costs. 

"Way to make a first impression, Shion," Rogue scolded, rubbed it in.

I shrugged:

"Hey, the way I see it, if this gets bigots like the suit off our backs, we should probably do it more often."

Rogue slapped her forehead and groaned:

"You are hopeless."

I was tempted to make a joke about being a spirit of hope, but I realized that now was not the time.

"I am sorry," I sighed, "I didn't mean to do a Wicked Witch impression in the middle of the bus. It just that…"

"He was an as*hole," Rogue nodded solemnly. "A bigoted shrimp of an as*hole."

"It's not quite it. Normally, I wouldn't let myself be bothered by someone like him. But for the past year and a half, I've watched his kind hogging the spotlight while good, decent people got dragged through the mud or bullied into silence. I keep on waiting for someone, anyone to realize that we have been through all crap before. We should know better. But incidents like this make me realize that some people never learned anything to begin with. Just when you think it's safe to go back in the water, they come back and ruin everything, or at least, make a perfectly nice day unpleasant... "

Rogue gave my hand a quick squeeze. In the back of my mind, I noted that her gloves were very soft.

"It must be hard for you," she said quietly.

"What?"

"To be optimistic. Always cracking jokes, always trying to find a better angle, always make sure we're not wallowing."

"Somebody has to do it."

Rogue stared out the window toying with her white streaks. 

"You know, it's okay to admit that life sucks," she assured me.

"I don't know. The universe might just collapse on itself."

"I am serious. You seem to think you should always be this perfectly nice, perfectly suave guy with a joke for every occasion. "

"And cute. Don't forget cute."

"I am trying to be serious here!" she snapped back.

"Sorry," I whimpered.

"Anyway… You aren't perfect. Vanishing acts and mind control aside, you are just a normal guy with normal flaws who sometimes makes mistakes. You shouldn't be afraid to admit it."

The bus stopped, picking up another passenger. 

"Do you know why I fell in love with you?" I asked 

"Because I could put up with your babbling for hours and hours on end?"

"No. Because no matter what happens, you always stay true to who you are. Nothing more, nothing less."

"Pardon me while I gush over this prettyful speech," Rogue snorted.

"There you go," I smiled

"Are you guys married?"

My head snapped in the direction of the voice, ready to pummel anyone who dared to try to interupt us….

…Only to find myself confronted by the most adorable little girl I've ever seen.

Oops.

She looked about eight years old. Her sea-blue eyes stared back at me with innocent naiveté. Her carefully brushed sandy hair reached all the way down to her knees. It was topped by a wide-rimmed hat with a red ribbon. She was clad in red pullovers and a white, dark-striped shirt.  

"Well, are you?" she smiled

Like I said, adorable.

"No," replied Rogue, "Why would you say that?"

"Because you look cute together!" the little girl beamed, clasping her hands

Rogue tried to suppress a snort. 

"What's your name?" I asked, smiling

"Madison Ashcroft," she replied proudly. "But everybody calls me Madi. Who are you?"

"Shion Komine, at your service."

"I'm Rogue."

"Nice to meet you!" exclaimed Madi, jumping into the seat across from us, "oou, comfy!"

Personally, I thought the seats were anything but comfy. Thankfully, after surviving one little sister, I knew better then to contradict her.

"Are you sure your parents would let you sit with us?" asked Rogue.

Leave it to a Goth girl to retain common sense in the face of an all-out cuteness assault.

"Sure. I think they would like you very much."

"Why won't you go ask them?" I urged kindly.

"I can't. They aren't here."

OK…

"Where are they, then?" inquired Rogue.

Madi rubbed her chin:

"I don't know. I haven't seen them in a while."

"You mean you're adopted?" asked Rogue, pronouncing the word "adopted" with unmistakable poison. 

"I guess…" Madi mumbled. "Kind of, sort of."

And that's when I realized that she didn't seem to have a chaperone of any kind:

"Are you lost?" I asked, trying to keep concern out of my voice.

"Yeah," she nodded casually.

Rogue and I exchanged puzzled looks.

"How did this happen?" asked Rogue

"Well, I was going to go meet Alita and Kat, but this guy in a blue rope-thingy came and asked if I want ice-cream. I said yes and he told me to follow him and I did. He bought me ice cream, but when I asked if he wanted one, he wasn't there. I tried to call the Moderators but they didn't come. I asked for directions, but everybody thought I was crazy so I walked around until I came to the bus stop and came on the bus and, well, here I am."

Geez, and they say _I_ talk too much.

As I saw Rogue was struggling with a monstrous headache, I realized how lucky I was to have a little sister. 

 "Who are the Moderators?" I asked

"Oh, they are my protectors and my best friends," Madi smiled wishfully. "They are really fun, but they can be really scary if you break the rules. But they are never scary around me." 

"Because you never break the rules?"

"No. Because they say I am very nice and very adorable and very very cool and I could do no wrong."

"And you believe that?" Rogue inquired, still drowsy but clearly disturbed. 

"Of course. Moderators would never lie to me."

Rogue shook her head helplessly.

"Geez, talk about sheltered." She whispered

"I don't know," I whispered back. "There is something odd about her"

"I am not odd!" protested Madi. "I am special."

"You know, little girls shouldn't be listening in on adult conversations," I nagged.

"I am sorry," the little spy smiled sweetly. "I won't do it again, I promise."

"It's alright," I assured her. "Now, can you tell us where we can find the Moderators?"

"Here, there, everywhere," Madi sang merrily. "They run around the world, stopping bad guys, helping people and playing games. But all the people do is whine whine whine. Very silly."

"Then how do you get in touch with them?" asked Rogue.

"I call for them and they come. Sometimes, when they are busy, they don't come right away, but they come eventually…" Madi paused, contemplating something, "But if I've been waiting for hours and hours and they still didn't come… That means that they can't hear me.  And if they can't hear me, then I must be really really far away…"

Madi teared up.

"They don't know I am here! And even if they did know they can't leave Bayville because they promised they wouldn't leave it! [Sniffle] But if I don't come back, bad things will happen. Moderators will be lost and confused and poor Bayville is gonna be overrun by evil spammers and the minions of Marty Stu and Mary Sue and there will be flaming and yelling and screaming… [Sniffle] How will they ever survive without me? Oh, Mr. Skidiot, please help me, I wanna go back, I wanna go back!"

Her sniffles quickly dissolved into an all-out sobbing.

"There there," I said, wrapping my arms around Madi, "it will be alright."

"Promise?" the little girl looked at me hopefully.

"Of course I promise."

"Thanks, Shion," she smiled, wiping away her tears, "You're the best."

"He wishes," mumbled Rogue

I smiled and winked. Rogue's chin moved enough inches to pass for a nod.

Madi shook her head hopelessly:

"Grownups…"

I spent the rest of the trip telling Madi funny stories. Rogue butted in occasionally. Ever a vigilant guardian of common decency, she made sure that I don't tell the kind of stuff little girls really shouldn't be hearing. When I had to stop to catch my breath, Madi told us a few stories of her own. They were all as neat as they were strange. Before we knew it, the bus arrived at our destination.

"Well, this is where we get off," I told Madi.

"Can I come with?"

"Sure."

I decided that we were going to drop Madi off at the nearest police station. It may be a little scary to a kid, I know, but I couldn't have her tagging along while we're trying to figure out what happened to Angel.

Then again, the cops would probably think Madi isn't right on her head and throw her in the insane asylum…

Fortunately, I never got a chance to decide her fate. As soon as got out on the street, Madi gasped and ran towards a guy who looked like he was waiting for a bus.

"Skidiot!" she squalled, "you came!"

"That's _Mr._ Skidiot to you, princess," he smiled.

He allowed himself to be hugged. Naturally, Madi was delighted to return the favor.

At a closer examination, "Mr. Skidiot" turned out to be a tall, brown-haired guy wrapped in a tightly buttoned trenchcoat and a white scarf. His face showed weariness of prodigy who spent the past four days trying to explain to a bunch a fanboys that none of the Matrix sequels were really that profound. 

 "Now, how did you get all the way here?" asked Skidiot as he released Madi from his hug.

"A guy in a blue duster promised me ice cream," Madi explained curtly, "I went along. Yeah, yeah, I know. It was stupid. But I figured no one would actually be stupid enough to try to harm Madison Ashcroft."

"You let Moderators spoil you too much," Skidiot chided the girl who suddenly sounded a little too old for her age.

"Yeah, thanks for rubbing it in."

"I see you are still the same spoiled, narcissistically inclined Peter Pen groupie!" Skidiot joked

"And you are still a pathologically dehumorized prick!" Madi echoed.

They glared at each other, laughed and exchanged high-fives.

Skidiot shot a look in our direction:

"You really should close your mouths. A crow might fly in."

Madi giggled.

We obliged silently.

"Madi, did those people take care of you?"

"Yeah. They're cool"

"A power leech and a chronomencer, trying to protect a versemaker…"Skidiot murmured, "How… fitting."

"Excuse me?" said Rogue

"Thanks for taking care of her." Skidiot said, completely Rogue. "As for you, Madison, we really should get going. Knowing the Moderators, they are committing ritual suicide as we speak."

"Hey, that's not fair," Madi protested. "You were a Moderator once!"

"Ah, but I was always the sane one. I guess that's why I left."

"Well, at least you came to get me."

"Hey, you were once my Administrator," he grinned broadly. "What else could I do?"

"Kheh-Khem!" Rogue coughed loudly.

"Well, off we go," said Skidiot, putting his arm around Madi's shoulder, "Shion, Rogue: for your sake, I hope I will never have to see you again."

"Wait a minute! What's that supposed to mean!" I cried, but it was too late. Skidiot mouthed_ "taniji"_ and, in a quick flash of blue light, he and Madi vanished into thin air.

"Damn!" Rogue and I cried in unison.

We looked at each other and let out a sigh of wry disbelief

"What the hell just happened?" asked Rogue, sounding more bemused then annoyed.

"I don't know," I shrugged wearily, "and something tells me we never will."

Rogue toyed with her hair streaks.

"I just feel so… powerless," she mused.

"Ditto. But like I said before, what can we do?"

We started heading in the direction of the hotel.

"Do you think Madi will be okay?" Rogue asked.

"Yeah. I wonder if she needed our protection to begin with."

I glanced at the skyscrapers overhead. It finally dawned on me. I was in New York, a city of wild dreams, tireless energy, limitless expectations and eternal hope. 

"Next time we bump into an anthill," mumbled Rogue, "remind me too be gentle."

"How about we just make a point of avoiding anthills?"

"Works for me."

I knew that Rogue and I were on a life-and-death mission. But just the same, I was glad to be here.

New York City has this kind of effect on mutants.


	4. Chapter 4: On Mists and Butterflies

Author's Note: After a long, LONG hiatus, I finally found time to write the next instalment of "Angels at the Crossroads". Along the way, I realized that the original 4th chapter didn't quite work, so I had to start from scratch. But, last assured, I finally finished it.

**Chapter 4:** On Mists and Butterflies.

Rogue and I checked into "Mystic Lounge", a cheap, yet cozy hotel on the northern edge of Manhattan. We always stopped there because cheap, but comfy and because it's staff didn't ask too many questions. Last time we were there, we wound up getting chased by the cops. Without missing a beat, the desk clerk informed the policemen that the teenagers that just ran up the stairs were nothing more then maids who were late for their shifts. The cops apologized and went on their merry way.

The clerk assured us that he was not a mutant. Really. I doubted it, but Rogue suggested that maybe, just maybe, prodding a man who just saved our sorry, careless aes wasn't such a good idea.

What can I say? Rogue has a way with words.

We left most of our luggage in our room and went straight to Worthington Tower. We took our costumes with us just in case.

We thought we could get into the building quietly, without getting anyone's attention. We couldn't of been more wrong.

The entire skyscraper was surrounded by police cars, ordinary cars, fancy cars and limos. A swarm of reporters gathered by the front doors, trying their best to poke their mikes into police commissioner's face and splatter his escorts all over the nearest walls. A line of armored cops desperately tried to keep them at bay. Cameras flashed so much I wondered how anyone could still see anything. A couple dark helicopters hovered in the sky.

"Commissioner, is it true that Mr. Worthington has a sec…"

"…Are now getting a word from the father…"

"…Move it, kid, we ain't got all day…"

"… Ms. DeAllera, ESP3 is reporting massive disturbances in the local astral plain..."

"…I don't care. Use a toothpick if you have to!"

"… A S.H.I.E.L.D helicopter has arrived on the scene just…"

"…Any world from Candidate Kelly?"

"… Is it a mutant conspiracy, a government plot? You decide…"

I whistled: "Well, it looks like we'll be staying here for a while."

"No kidding," Rogue shook her head and mumbled, "stupid paparazzis…"

"It's been a couple of hours since Warren was kidnapped," I thought aloud, "don't those people have models to stalk?"

"Are you kidding me?" Rogue sneered, "Warren's parents are loaded. It would take a nuclear bomb to pull those parasites off."

"They are not all bad."

"Really? When was the last time a journalist did anything good?"

"Last year of Nixon Administration."

Rogue gave me a strange look.

"You know, Watergate. President's men spying on Democrats, cover-ups, conspiracies of silence, mysteriously erased tapes..."

Rogue moaned silently: "You and your history stuff…"

Before I got a chance to reply, a familiar voice with a distinct touch of King's English caught my attention:

"Listen to me, you shrimp-brained wanker! I have no sodding idea where he is! I've told you that before the coppers took me in _and_ after they let me go! Now piss off!"

And with that last proclamation, a tall, long-legged girl in a purple-and-blue outfit erupted from the crowd in front of us.

"SHION!"

Forgetting all about the cameras and reporters, she rushed towards me, wrapping me in a tight, warm hug.

"I can't believe it," she babbled with joy, "you're here, you're here, you're here!"

"Betsy," I croaked, "your manners…"

"Sorry," she quickly released me, "really sorry. I am just really glad to see you!"

"Really?" I couldn't resist quipping.

"Really."

A beat.

"Wait a minute!"

Suddenly, I had thousands of mikes trying to poke my eyes out.

"Who are you?"

"How do you know Ms. Braddock?"

"Are you Ms. Braddock's lover?"

"What do you know about kidnapping of Warren Warrington?"

Before another reporter can spit out something even more moronic, Betsy showed me aside.

"Do you ponces understand English?" she spat, "Oh, forget I asked. Just leave!"

And, just like that, the reporters turned around and headed for their cars.

"And by the way," Betsy called after them, "erase your tapes!"

_Oh crap_, I thought, _Did she just telepath them? _

You always were a smart bloke, Betsy's voice filled my head.

Why didn't you do that earlier? I thought back

I don't like using my powers too much, she smiled, They make life too easy.

It was strange, really. Every time Jean or Professor Xavier entered my mind, I couldn't help but feel a little violated. I know they don't mean any harm, but… It's like finding out that your friends crashed in your house while you were out. But with Betsy, it felt… nice.

We haven't seen each other ever since our cross-continental adventure. Sure, we e-mailed each other every week or so, but it wasn't the same. I've noticed that her hair was a slightly darker shade of purple then I remembered. I hoped she would take my suggestions to heart and add some alternative flavor to her wardrobe. But no, she just had to be a fashion freak. I shook my head. This girl would never learn.

"Excuse me!" a harsh rebuke interrupted my thoughts, "Am I invisible or something?"

Rogue crossed her arms, tapping her foot impatiently.

"Oh… yeah…." I babbled, "I mean, no… Not at all."

Rogue gave me a look usually reserved for Bobby's attics.

"Sorry, Rogue," Betsy apologised, "Shion was too busy ragging on my fashion choices to notice you."

Rogue's frown softened a little.

"Anyway, " Betsy continued, "I am glad to meet you," she extended her hand to Rogue, "it has been a while."

Rogue stared blankly. Betsy's smile froze into a hideous grin. I felt kind of stupid.

Rogue took Betsy's hand and hesitantly shook it.

Silence

"So," I said, "just when you thought you couldn't feel anymore awkward…"

Rogue and Betsy ignored me

"We should get out of here," Betsy suddenly stated.

"I don't think so," Rogue sniped, "We came here to find Warren. We need clues and his apartment is a good place to start. So until we find some way to get into the building, we are not going anywhere."

Rogue looked to me for support.

"If we wait, someone might tamper with the crime scene," I pointed out

Betsy dismissed my our objections with a brisk wave of the hand:

"The coppers already went through every millimetre of the room. There is nothing to temper _with_."

"They weren't looking for mutant-related evidence," I argued, "they could have missed something."

Betsy shook her head: "Alright, fearless leader. If you are so determined to get into the building, go right ahead. I won't stop you. I just want you to know that when the crowd dissolved and the clean-up crew with find a bloody, mike-ridden pile of meat and bones, I'll pretend that I don't know you."

And she says Americans are violent…

"You are a telepath," said Rogue. "Can't you just make us invisible or something?"

"No. For one thing, people will try to walk through us. For another, I am not your Professor – I don't have the power to handle the whole crowd. And finally, I can only do something like this to the actual people: it won't protect us from cameras and other video equipment."

"So what do you suggest?" Rogue asked snidely

"I suggest that we get our of here and wait another two hours," Betsy replied, mimicking Rogue, "the crowd should thin out by then."

Rogue looked at me.

"If I anchor to Betsy, I might have a good shot of getting past the crowd." I mused

"Yeah, but you won't have enough anchorage to get up to Warren's apartment," Betsy countered. Looking at Rogue, she added, "come on, don't be so stubborn. I know a nice restaurant a few buildings away from here."

Without another word, Betsy walked away. I went after her. Rogue mumbled something under her breath and followed suit.

"Don't get me wrong, Rogue," said Betsy, "I am worried about Warren too. I just don't want to deal with reporters right now."

"I know," Rogue nodded, "sometimes, I dream about dumping them all into the danger room for half and hour of so. You know, just for kicks"

"I think you are being too kind."

"Really? Do you have any better idea?"

"As a matter a fact, I do."

They went on to talk about reporters, newspapers, and how movies misrepresented their respective sub-cultures. It was amazing, really. Two beautiful women who had less in common then Democrats and Republicans managed to bond over their hatred for mass media. To be fair, they both had pretty good reasons to hate reporters. A few months after the shooting at Columbine, a certain big-shot conservative Fox News pundit stalked Rogue, pestering her to tell him about the evils of Goth movement. When she told him exactly what she thinks about him and his network, he recorded everything on tape and broadcast it on national TV a few days later. Soon, Rogue's already troubled life turned into a personal hell as hundreds of zealous, God-loving Evangelists made it their mission to covert her to the light side, privacy and personal space be damned. Fcking bastard. How could do it to a thirteen-year-old!

As for Betsy, her mere existence was controversial. Her father, James Braddock, shocked the British high society when he married a Hong Kong actress. A rich man from a family that traced it's lineage to King Arthur's time, marrying not only outside his class, but outside his race? Unspeakable! Preposterous! For tabloids, this was a gift from God. For the first few years of her life, just about every move Betsy made was documented, scrutinized and analysed. Over time, the world became more excepting of this sort of thing. The tabloids found other things to mutilate. But every once in a while, a story about Betsy, accompanied by a slew of doctored photos, shows up in the tabloids.

The whole "mutant menace" thing didn't make life any easier for either of them. Betsy had to be very careful to keep her powers a secret. Her family reputation was on the line. As for Rogue, well, she was outed, so she had to face the media onslaught just like everybody else in the Institute… Well, almost everybody else.

It hit me like one of Danger Room's stimulated "rocks".

I was so happy to see Betsy in person that I didn't bother to think why she was there or why reporters were asking her about Warren!

She was the mystery woman!

Oh. My. God.

"Betsy?" I asked.

"What?" she asked innocently

"Were you and Warren…."

"We went out on a date, if that's what you're asking," she smiled

"How? Why?"

"Well, two months ago, our families were attending a charity banquet. We were introduced to each other. With secret identities and family reputations on the line, we had to pretend this was the first time we met. It was kind of fun, actually. We could forget our rather rushed first meeting and start from scratch. By the time the dinner ended, we couldn't take our eyes off each other. Since then, we e-mailed each other practically every day. A few days ago, Warren asked me on a date. I was a little surprised, but he offered to pay for everything. How could I resist?"

I tried to speak. No words came out.

"It was really fun. Warren took me all over New York City. We've seen museums, art galleries, parks and fashion shows. We are at the finest restaurants. He even took me shopping. Can you believe it – _shopping_! He was a perfect gentleman – up to the point."

I tried to speak. I really did. But as soon as Betsy said "up to the point", my mouth snapped shut and refused to open.

"Yes," She rolled her eyes in the kindly condescending sort of way, "We shagged like there was no tomorrow. And daaaamnwas it good."

She looked off wishfully.

I tried talking again. This time, my mouth allowed me to spit out a stuttering: "Bbbutt…"

"Well, I couldn't wait for Scott, now could I," She grinned mischievously, "He is too wrapped up in that red-headed football queen of his. Oh well, it happens. "

Rogue and I stared.

"What?" Betsy asked innocently, "Why are you looking at me like I am some kind of slapper?"

"You and Scott…" Rogue managed to utter

"…How?" I gasped for words, "When?"

"Oh, we've met during last Christmas," Betsy explained, "What, he never told you?"

Rogue and I shook our heads.

" Figures…" Betsy moaned, "Guys are such idiots, I swear!"

"Did you and Scott…" Rogue asked.

"No," Betsy shook her head, "Trust me, if we did, everybody would have known all about it. Besides, I would never do it with someone right off the bat."

"That's a relief," Rogue mumbled.

I tried to wrap my brain around this new development. I knew that Betsy was always open about her feelings. She enjoyed flirting with guys she liked. Back during our little adventure, I wondered about my feelings for her. I tried flirting with her, but eventually, I realized that no matter what, my heart will always belong to Rogue.

Still, to think that few hours ago, Betsy and Warren were together. In bed. Naked. Doing all kinds of things to each other…

"SHION, STOP IT!" Betsy screamed, "You are imagining it all wrong and sick and twisted and… arg!"

Rogue gave me an odd look

I knew from experience that telepaths have hard time blocking thoughts that are influenced by hormones. Hearing what other people think about you is disturbing as it is. I tried to think of something else. Anything else.

"You are still thinking about it!" Betsy chided

I frantically tried to think of every unpleasant thing possible. Mr. Kelly, Todd's cleaning habits, Helicarrier's Dec 0, anti-mutant rampages, Blob's room. Yeah, that did it.

"Thank you, Shion," Betsy breathed a sigh of relief.

I looked at Rogue. Her face was frozen in a strange smirk. Was she amused? Angry? Annoyed? All of the above?

"You know, Rogue, that's a really interesting idea," Betsy licked her lips, "I wonder if Shion would be up for it."

For the second time in my memory, a flash of crimson spread across Rogue's pale cheeks.

"Stay out of my head," Rogue protested. She sounded more embarrassed than angry.

"Sorry, didn't mean to intrude," said Betsy, "It's just that it was such a powerful…"

Rogue and I gave her a unanimous glare

"OK, shutting up now."

I could imagine what she was thinking. _Stupid Americans. Can they be any more repressed? _

A smile from her informed me that I wasn't far off the mark

"Anyway," Betsy collected her thoughts, "here is the restaurant. You'll love it here, I promise. "

Ten minutes later, I decided that she was exaggerating. Sure, it was nice and calm. I admit, I did love the white curtains. And the waiters… I swear to God, I haven't seen anyone looking this bad wearing a tuxedo since Kurt showed me the photos from 2002's prom. It's just that the restaurant was a little too… expensive (no, "classy" would be a better word) for my tastes.

I am a rave child. What do you expect?

Rogue looked even less comfortable. While her outfit didn't quite scream "Goth", she looked a tad bit too gloomy for the dresses-and-perty-jewels crowd that dwelt in this shiny establishment.

Thankfully, the restaurant offered a wide variety of choices. I ordered Louisiana Sunburst Salad, Chicken fried rice and a glass of lemonade. Rogue ordered tamagoyaki, yakitori, a cup of Sprite and some French fries. Betsy ordered Annie's Scotch Eggs, a cheesy potato pie, deep-fried fish and a cup of green tea. She promised she would pay the bill, so we could afford to be a little extravagant.

"Now that we finally got all the gross stuff out of the way," I said as I got started on my salad, "we need to figure out what happened to Warren. Betsy, when was the last time you saw him?"

"Right after the "gross stuff"", Betsy replied, "We talked for a while. Then, we fell asleep. When I woke up, he was gone."

"Gone?" I couldn't help but ask.

Betsy didn't seem to hear me: "I thought he went to take a shower or something. I waited for him. But after fifteen minutes, he didn't come. I reached out to him and he… and he… wasn't there. I tried to go farther, but I couldn't… I couldn't… "

Her words turned into uncontrollable sobs.

_It just hit her_, I realized, _she tried to keep it at bay, tried to focus on something else… _

Betsy was a strong girl. She had to be. With tabloids eagerly waiting to exploit her every misstep, she always had to perfectly calm, perfectly collected, with a bright smile plastered on her face. Betsy once told me that when she was little, she used to come home from fancy banquets and receptions and cry for hours and hours on end, always in the privacy of her own room. It was the only place where she truly felt safe.

I came up from my chair and held her. Betsy clung to me for her dear life. I knew that everybody was staring. I didn't care. Let them look. Maybe they will learn something.

Five minutes later, Betsy's sobbing finally subsided.

"Oh great," she smiled sadly, "I got my make-up all over your T-shirt."

"Don't worry," I assured her, "Its just clothes"

Betsy spent another minute composing herself and adjusting her make-up.

"Anyway," she said as she put away her make-up remover, "as I was saying before the waterworks started, Warren wasn't there. I called Professor Xavier. Than, I called the police. Lot of good that did! Stupid coppers ransacked the entire place. They took just about everything that wasn't nailed to the floor to the lab. Then, they took me for questioning. I tried not to peek into their thoughts, but somehow, I got an feeling that they thought I killed Warren, chopped him up into little pieces and threw them out of the window. I had to call my dad. Next thing I knew, they were apologizing and swearing that they were just trying to do their jobs."

"Geez, I wish _my _dad had a S.H.I.E.L.D. security clearance, " Rogue interrupted sarcastically.

"I went straight to Worthington Tower," Betsy continued without missing a beat, "I had to dodge reporters and maneuver though the traffic jams and a whole bunch of very weird people, but eventually, I got there. You know the rest."

"Are you sure you didn't see anything suspicious?" I asked

"As you Americans say "pretty sure"."

"Alright…" I sighed, "Do you think it's safe to approach the building?"

"I don't know," Betsy shook her head, "we should probably finish our food. Then, we can head out and see what happens."

And finish our food we did. True to her word, Betsy took care of everything.

It was the second best formal dinner I ever had.

We walked back to Worthington Tower in silence. I tried to start a conversation, but nothing stuck. Betsy and Rogue were too deep in thought.

I knew those two never really got along, but in the past, they at least tried to be nice to each other. Now, they were like Soviet Union and United States during the Cuban Missile Crisis. The diplomacy went out the window and each side was nervously waiting for its enemy to make a move.

When we arrived, we discovered that most of the commotion already died down. A few cops stood by the building, munching on some snacks. A couple of reporters sat by the news van. I could have sworn they were playing cards. A few scattered crowds of on-lookers stopped by the building, but they lost interest quickly.

As Betsy rightly put it: "Perrfect."

We came into the lounge. Nobody tried to stop us. I wasn't sure if it was because Betsy tinkered with the mind or because they just didn't care.

"There might be someone watching the crime scene," I said as we waited for the elevator, "I better ghost."

"Cool," Betsy nodded, "wWat are we supposed to do?"

"You are supposed to distract the guards," Rogue answered curtly, "Shion might have to return. We wouldn't want cops losing their marvels when some guy appears out of thin air. I'll hang back in case either of you needs help. Shion, you should anchor to Betsy. She has better range."

For some reason, I didn't feel good about the idea. I didn't feel good about it at all.

But Rogue's plan made sense.

"Mam," I quipped, tipping my arm towards Betsy.

"My pleasure," she replied. The green lighting caught her right between her fingers.

Meanwhile, the elevator arrived.

When the door opened on 57th floor, only Betsy was on the elevator. Rogue was shielded by Betsy's telepathic mask. Me, I was making my way through the Middleverse. I changed into my consume as we came up. It had the equipment I would need.

Sure enough, two cops were guarding Warren's apartment. Poor sobs looked bored out of their wit. As soon as they saw Betsy, they dropped whatever they were smoking and straightened their hair.

"Say, boys," Betsy walked up to them, swinging her hips, "do you know where I can find a guy?"

"Depends," the cop leered, "What kind of guy are you looking for?"

Betsy toyed with her hair: "Oh, I don't know his name or anything. He just gave me a call and told me to come over."

The other cop smiled shyly.

I gave my lovely friend an invisible wink and went inside the apartment.

When Betsy said that the cops took away everything that wasn't nailed to the ground, she wasn't kidding. If it wasn't for chalk lines and dust patterns, I never would of guessed that this room once had furniture. I went over to the closet and stuck my head inside. Everything seemed normal. I stepped inside and looked in the secret space behind the closet. Warren's costume and spare street clothes were still there. So was the x-communicator, emergency medical kit and sawing supplies. I smiled. Despite all their obsessive searching, the cops didn't find Warren's secret.

I returned to the normal universe and changed the mask's lenses to infrared. Nothing. Ultraviolet. Same result. I walked around the room a couple of times, hoping to spot anything that the cops might of missed. Nothing. Zero. Zip. Zilch.

I growled in frustration. I knew I missed something obvious, but what? What!

_Come on, think_, I ordered myself, _what kind of kidnapper can possibly walk around without touching anything?_

The answer came to me immediately.

Suddenly, I felt a frigid dread crawling up my spine.

My finger slammed into the button on my bracelet.

I hoped it wasn't true. I prayed it wasn't true. I would of moved heaven and earth to ensure that it wasn't true.

In the left corner of the room, a few feet away from the left side of the bed, I saw a colony of dark, silvery moss. I pointed a finger at it. Sure enough, a lighting bolt shot out straight into the moss. Next thing I knew, the smells and humidity of the real world returned.

No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no!

The silver moss was a telltale sign that someone opened a portal into another universe somewhere nearby. I knew of only one being that could have pulled it off…

I dived back into the Middleverse. If he is out there, everyone was in danger. Rogue, Betsy, Tabitha, Forge, Sam, Jubilee… He could control emotions much better than me. I tried to think back to all the strange reactions, to all the times my friends acted out of character, to all the unprovoked fights and bizarre infatuations.

I ran out of the room. I needed to get Rogue and Betsy out of here. Immediately. I could only hope that Warren was still himself.

But before I could reach the door, I saw a crimson shadow crawling across the window.

"Can't the world just stay sane," the shadow mumbled, "I mean, is it really too much to ask?"

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Disclaimer: Psylocke belongs to Marvel Comics. The version you see here is my take on the character, with a few unique twists along the way.


	5. Chapter 5: Illusions of Truth

**Author's Note:** The information about Chinese monsters was taken from Encyclopedia Mythica at pantheon dot com

**Chapter 5:** Illusions of Truth

According to an old Chinese legend, the burial mound of Qin Shi Huangdi, first emperor of the unified China, contains the replica of "all under Heaven and Earth". For centuries, scholars wondered what that meant. The fact that, to this day, Chinese government prohibits archeologists from exploring the burial mound fueled the speculation even further. Hank McCoy knew all this. He always thought that the replica in question was nothing more then a bunch of stone models, like famous terracotta warriors that were discovered a few miles away from the mound. He would've never imagined that the mount contained an actual environment. But he could not deny facts.

For the past three hours, X-Men were trying their best to hold off hordes of mythological beasts right out of "Journey to the West" while trying to cross what seemed like a perfect replica of an ancient East Asian forest. At first, the students had no trouble stopping the creatures. But every time victory was in their reach, more and more beasts came. Despite their extraordinary gifts, poor youngsters weren't invincible. They got tired. They got frustrated. They made sloppy mistakes. Even Wolverine, who held off huge hordes of attackers more times then he cared to count, seemed to be losing his edge.

Jean was in the air, fighting Feng-huang, a Chinese phoenix. Cyclops fired non-stop, trying to fry as many little gargoyle-like demons as possible. Iceman and Magma were helping him. Nightcrawler hopped from tree to tree as a creature that looked suspiciously like Goku the Monkey King tried to hit him with a large staff. Boom-Boom and Gambit faced off against a herd of deer-like Kirin. Jubilee and Cannonball tried to make their way through rows upon rows of walking corpses. They weren't having much luck. Five large hounds crossed the forest in gigantic leaps. Shadowcat tried to phase through the trees, but it was clear that she was losing concentration. Avalanche did his best to hold them off, but the hounds leaped out of the way before his blasts could have any effect.

Meanwhile, Wolverine and Beast were trying their best to keep two huge dragons at bay. True to the ancient Chinese myths, they had power over local environment, which made things even harder.

_Come on, Charles_, Dr. McCoy thought, _We were supposed to stay in contact. Where are you?_

En Sabah Nur, a mutant known among the modern men as the omnipotent Apocalypse, gazed at the viewing portal that displayed the scene unfolding in the burial mound below. As he watched the flame-haired witch trying to contact her mentor, his mouth formed into a small, deadly smirk.

"You told the truth, wizard," He said to his companion, "nothing can escape this trap. Nothing."

The other man adjusted his blue duster. The cold dark eyes behind his elegantly framed glasses showed a glimmer of satisfaction.

All his life, he was told that he was the most powerful magus of his age. His mentors assured him that once he achieved his full potential; no force in the universe would be able stand in his way. He took their worlds to heart. He studied hard, knowing that one day he would prove them right.

On his eighteenth birthday, he was finally ready

First, he went after all the great magic users of his realm. Dr. Occult, John Constantine, Dr. Fate, Zaruel, Shazam, Enchantress, Faust, Boston Brand, Kid Eternity, Madam Xanadu, Tempest, Sentinel and even the almighty Zatanna Zatara herself - they all fell one by one. He banished the Spectre and Phantom Stranger from his world. He even managed to weaken the material incantations of the Endless to the point where they were nothing but powerless shadows.

Then, he went after the heroes. The ones with powers died by his hands. He left the powerless ones alive. They were free to try to oppose him. In the end, they always failed.

He was called Tim Hunter. But, as Dr. Occult once told him, a wizard must never reveal his true name. As far as his associates and his enemies were concerned, he was The Other.

"Tell me, wizard," the mutant lord interrupted his thoughts, "how did you use these artifacts without losing your powers? "

"It's dreadfully simple," The Other replied, "I reset the energy converters so that the "artifact" would draw power from whoever happens to be inside the trap."

"Considering the power required to maintain these illusions, I am surprised the fools haven't collapsed from exhaustion. "

"Ah, but some of those 'fools' have far greater potential than they realize."

Apocalypse traced his hand over the control panels. The viewing port zoomed in on the red-haired witch.

_Yes_, he thought, _they do indeed._

"I trust you already apprehended my newest prize," Apocalypse said

"Naturally," The Other nodded.

"When can I have him?"

"When he serves my purpose." Sensing Apocalypse's displeasure, he hastened to add, "Fear not, Your Omnipotence. We have come this far. Do you truly think I would betray you?"

The ancient mutant considered that:

"Fair enough. I shall let you pursue your strange agendas. You know full well what would happen if you would try to double-cross me."

"Just as you know full well what would happen if _you_ should try to double-cross _me_."

The mutant and the wizard looked at each other. Both wondered if they were being challenged. Both wondered if their alliance was worth it. And, after staring at each for a while, both decided that they never would've made it this far without each other's help.

They looked away.

"You may leave now," Apocalypse finally said.

"As you wish, Your Omnipotence," said The Other.

He made a quick bow and left the control chamber.

As soon as he was in the hall, he breathed a sigh of relief. Dealing with the ancient mutant was always a battle of nerves. Apocalypse's greatest asset wasn't his X-Gene – The Other could overpower him if he needed to. It was the amazing technology he wielded. The Other had seen Apocalypse use it to rearrange sub-atomic particles, alter the flow of space-time, violate laws of physics and magic and manipulate the human mind. He was terrified to imagine what would happen if the mutant conqueror ever discovered what this technology was _meant_ to do.

The Other spread his magic throughout the hall, trying to find any sensors and recording devices. He knew that it was pointless – the technology was beyond his comprehension. The Other did it anyway. It was a comfort thing.

The Other shrugged and opened a portal. He took one last look around and stepped inside.

…He plummets into a hole that had no beginning or end, where past and future are meaningless. He cannot escape. He can't do anything to even slow down his fall. No matter how much he tries, he can't imagine his life beyond a single, terrifying moment…

He stepped out of the portal.

The Other looked around. He stood in a lush, quiet garden. The air was so pure it hurt his lungs. But as he looked up, he was reminded that this was no ordinary garden. The decaying fragments of a dying world stared back at him.

A tree so large that it made skyscrapers look like blades of grass loomed ahead. It cast an enormous shadow across the field. Beneath the tree was an elegant wooden teahouse. His associates gathered there. Much to his surprise, The Other heard laughter. He doubled his pace. There weren't that many things that could amuse the people he worked with.

The Other felt a certain kinship to them. They were freaks of nature. Accidents of fate. They fell through the proverbial cracks, defying (mostly by accident) the intricate laws that governed Hypertime. Alone, they were nothing but discarded, fateless ghosts. The Other gave them purpose, a chance to be something greater then themselves. And, if everything worked out as planned, they would have a chance to regain what was rightfully theirs.

Adrian Veidt was a prodigy. In a world where heroes were guided by selfish motivations and twisted desires, he was the only man who tried to work for the greater good of humanity. At first, he was Ozymandias, a popular hero who inspired countless young minds. But eventually, he realized that, for all the good he was doing, that just wasn't enough. Adrian Veidt set out to engineer an intricate conspiracy that would forever change his world. Despite a few obstacles, he succeeded. But in the end, all his efforts were for nothing. Less than a year after his victory, a white wave of anti-matter appeared on the fringes of cosmos. It made it's way through his universe, erasing everything in its path. There wasn't a thing he could do to stop it. Oh, he managed to survive the destruction of his universe. His brilliance ensured that much. But to the man who worked so hard to protect the innocents, it wasn't nearly enough.

The Other found him drifting among the scant few remains of his universe. Two decades passed since its demise. Because in hyperspace, time is meaningless, Adrian Veidt didn't age a day. The Other offered him a chance to rebuild his world in exchange for his services. Adrian Veidt reluctantly agreed.

Norman Osborn was a scientist, too. He wasn't nearly as brilliant as Adrian Veidt, but he had a creative side the other scientist never possessed. In his universe, Norman Osborn was in charge of a company that produced weapons for military and criminal organizations. During a laboratory accident, he inhaled an experimental gas compound that gave him super-strength and took away his sanity. He became a costumed criminal named Green Goblin. A few months later, he got his hands on a device that used hyperspace portals to give its user an ability to transport between distant locations in no time at all. During the battle with Spider-Man, the device malfunctioned. Green Goblin got sucked into Hyperspace. For some unknown reason, he maintained a psychic connection with his universe. Unlike Adrian Veidt, he felt every single second he spent in hyperspace. The experience aggravated his insanity. When The Other released him, Green Goblin wanted only one thing – revenge on Spider-Man. The Other offered to help him to make his wish a reality in exchange for his services. The insane scientist gladly agreed.

David MacTaggart was, quite arguably, the most powerful mutant in any universe. He was a son of Charles Xavier from Earth-219. Ever since he knew how to speak, David could manipulate the very fabric of reality without even breaking a sweat. Unfortunately, this power caused his body to deteriorate until it was completely gone. David, who now called himself Proteus, was forced to jump from body to body. The local version of X-Men tried to stop him. In the end, he managed to possess the local version of Betsy Braddock. Professor Xavier tried to help her fight off Proteus. Colossus, a more cynical member of X-Men, decided that the team could not afford to wait around. He crushed Betsy with a truck. The telepathic mutant died. But Proteus, who couldn't die because he was pure energy, wound up shifting uncontrollably between various planes of reality. It took Adrian Veidt weeks to devise a way to bring the hapless mutant back to the conventional plane. He created a device that would contain Proteus. The bargain between the young mutant and The Other was simple – if Proteus decided not to turn against him, he would turn off Adrian Veidt's device. At first, David grumbled a lot, but after he found out the final goal of The Other's plan, he became much more enthusiastic.

Legion, son of Charles Xavier from Earth-466, was as bizarre as his "brother". He came from a universe very similar to the one The Other just returned from. As he grew up, he developed three distinct personalities, each with a different power. After a confrontation with a local version of X-Men, he succeeded in finding a balance between his multiple selves. Or at least, so he thought. As time went on, the various personalities began reasserting themselves. He traveled throughout the world looking for a way to stabilize his condition. Two months later, the local version of Apocalypse finally made his move. In that universe, X-Men failed to stop Apocalypse from carrying out his plan. Billions of humans died. The rest wound up with mutant powers. Mutants suddenly reached their full potential. Legion was split into three separate bodies, each with the same set of powers as the others. At first, all three resulting entities were happy with the outcome. But when Apocalypse began hunting down everything related to X-Men, they were forced to run. David, Legion's more innocent personality, was quickly killed off. The other two personalities, Lucas and Ian, took the loss very personally. However, they both realized that they were no match for Apocalypse. So they snuck into the mutant overlord's base and tried to use his time machine to travel back to the past and change the future. However, something went wrong. Lucas was thrown into the universe similar, yet very different from the world he knew. That was where The Other found him. He explained to the angry mutant that, do to the nature of Hypertime, any attempt to change the future would have been pointless. Instead, The Other told him that he knew a way to wipe Legion's universe from existence. But in order to pull it off, The Other needed Lucas's help.

Since then, Legion's darkest personality had been The Other's faithful associate. He searched for Ian, who vanished without a trace, whenever he had the chance.

Compared to all those colorful stories, Mastermind seemed almost mundane. He was one of the refugees from a world that was destroyed by the Ultimate Nullifier. The only thing he wanted from The Other was to get paid, which suited the wizard just fine.

Then, there was Obake. The Other smiled. Now there was a character who deserved his own history book...

Before he could finish that thought, Proteus spoke up.

The Other is coming… Here. Right here. You're screwed.

"You're bluffing," Legion challenged his 'brother', "I would of sensed him… Oh crap."

"I don't see what you are so distressed about," Ozymandias cast a calm look in The Other's direction, "It wasn't like we were doing anything wrong."

"Yeah," Legion looked away sheepishly, "I did nothing wrong. Nothing wrong at all."

Green Goblin snickered.

There were days when The Other would play along with the juvenile antics of his younger associates. Today wasn't one of them.

"What the bloody hell is this all about!" He demanded.

Legion took a careful step back. Proteus shifted towards Legion. Mastermind melted into the background. Green Goblin slowly reached for his pumpkin-bomb pouch. Only Ozymandias remained completely undisturbed:

"Well, Mr. Hunter," he explained calmly, "As you know, this place is a nexus between Gentincus and Portendo hypertimelines. While I find the very existence of this place fascinating, it's very boring as far as my colleagues are concerned. Lately, they've been getting restless. Fearing for my life, I used the junk you dumped here over the years to construct the Hypertime Receiver. This device can pick up broadcasts from every single universe in existence. Personally, I would have preferred to use it for more enlightening pursuits, but young Lucas here insisted that we watch something called _Secret Celebrity Videos_." Legion looked away with defiant embarrassment, "Since the others seemed determined to see this… program, I figured that I should just be a good sport and let them do as they wished."

The Other looked at his underlings. Everyone showed a healthy amount of fear. Well, everybody except for Ozymandias. The Other didn't mind. The destruction of their universe would make anyone reconsider their priorities.

"Mr. Haller," The Other finally pronounced. Legion stared back, "I hope you weren't thinking about killing off the guy who gets up all the cool toys. Because that wouldn't be smart, now would it?"

"No, sir," Legion mumbled.

"As for you, Mr. Veidt," The Other continued, "Next time some of your more… empowered associates try to pressure you, remind them that you are the only person who has the access codes to the Spirit Trap."

"Yes, Mr. Hunter," Ozymandias offered a quick bow.

He refused to call his master "The Other" on principle. He said it sounded too pretentious. The wizard couldn't help but admire the mortal's gall.

Then again, maybe it wasn't gall. Maybe it was desperation.

"Is everybody satisfied?" The Other addressed his underlings. They nodded politely, "Good. First, I would like to commend Proteus and Ozymandias for their success. Apocalypse was very pleased."

"Does he suspect anything?" Green Goblin frowned.

"Of course," The Other smiled, "He wouldn't be Apocalypse if he didn't. Don't worry, Mr. Osborn. In a few days, we will have the keys to the ultimate power. We'll never have to bow to anyone or anything again!"

"I, for one, sincerely hope that you intend to keep your part of the bargain." Ozymandias interjected.

"Stop being so paranoid, V-man" Legion shrugged, "The Other's been good to you. He said he would let you do your research, and he did. He gave you a whole sodding universe to play with. He even got you all those weird-arse books…"

"Well put, Lucas," The Other nodded approvingly. Ozymandias carefully looked away.

"Now that that's out of the way, we got a lot of things to get through and not a whole lot of time to get though them. Up to this point, I only gave you the general plan. Now, it's time for specifics. I need you to pay attention, because if any one of you screws up, it's all over. Do you understand me? "

His subordinates nodded silently

"Good," the wizard smiled, "Now, let's get to work."

OK, here is a quick recap of my day so far:

- I discovered that I might have a new power.

- I found out that a friend of mine vanished off the face of the earth.

- Apocalypse, the most powerful mutant ever, made a comeback.

- I met a strange little girl who clearly wasn't little and may not even be a girl. One thing for sure, she wasn't from around here.

- I found out that yesterday, two of my friends got to know each other a little too well.

- And, just a few minutes ago, I found out that the mutant I thought was out of my life for good might be behind everything that went wrong over the past few days.

So, when I saw a scarlet figure dropping in just as I was about to leave the crime scene, I decided not to take any chances. I reached for my throwing disks and turned to face the intruder. If he moved as much as a muscle…let's just say that lately, Wolverine went out of the way to compliment me on my reaction time.

The intruder jumped off the window and, with the grace that would make Rogue greener then the highlights of her costume, landed on his feet. His mirror-like eyes glistened against the red texture of his mask. Wait a minute! The mask, the red-and-blue costume, the web-like patterns…

"Spider-Man!"

"The one and only," the masked webslinger replied wryly, "Now, be a good sneaky costumed guy and stay put. You got some of explain' to do."

"Sneaky Costumed Guy?" I couldn't help but quip, "You were the one who snuck up on me."

"I am a superhero," Spider-Man retorted, "You are a criminal. That's different."

"A criminal? What gave you that idea!"

"Let's see – a heir to a fortune big enough to buy a few small countries vanishes from his apartment. Police can't find a single clue. A few hours later, some costumed weirdo shows up that same apartment. He can turn invisible and walk around without making a sound or leaving footprints. What am I supposed to think?"

"You got a point there," I allowed, "there is just one problem."

"Oh really?" Spider-Man cocked his head, "Do tell."

"Ever heard of X-Men?"

"Who hasn't?"

"Well, look at the symbol on my belt," I said, pointing at the buckle, "what does it tell you?"

"That… Wait, you mean to tell me you are an X-Man?"

"Bingo," I smiled beneath my mask

But the webslinger was not convinced:

"I don't remember seeing you on TV."

"Well, I am not much of a TV person," I sniped back. I love to kid around as much as anyone, but my patience had it's limits, "Look, it's not like we got membership cards or anything. If you want to be a paranoid web-head, that's fine. Just let me get out of here and I swear I won't bug you. "

"I am sorry," Spider-Man shook his head, "I can't do that. A person's life is at stake."

My fingers brushed against the throwing disks.

Shion! an urgent voice broke into my mind, Can you please get a move on! I can't distract those perverts forever, you know!

I was ashamed to realize that I was so distracted by Spider-Man's arrival that I completely forgot that she was even there.

Hey!

Oops. Gotta watch those pesky surface thoughts.

Damn right.

Sorry, Betsy I thought, I got a little situation here.

What kind of situation? Betsy asked.

And that's when it hit me:

An easily avoidable one. I thought. Out loud, I said:

"Spider-Man."

"What?"

"Personally, I would rather avoid a slugfest. Those kinds of things are always pointless."

"I agree," Spider-Man relaxed slightly, "That still doesn't get you off the hook."

"I was getting to that." I smirked, "If you want proof, follow me."

"Where are we going?" Spider-Man asked, his voice dripping with suspicion.

"The roof." I shrugged, "It's as good of a place as any."

The roof? Betsy interrupted my thoughts, Shion, what the hell are you trying to pull?

Look deeper.

I dropped my mental barriers for a few seconds.

Aha… she thought Alright, I'll be right up.

Don't forget to tell Rogue, I reminded her. To Spider-Man, I said: "You coming?"

"Yeah," he mumbled apprehensively, "But if you try to pull anything…"

"I get the idea," I pulled a grappling hook launcher out of my utility belt, "Why are you so paranoid, anyway?"

"Experience."

I came up to the window. In most skyscrapers, they simply aren't designed to open this high up. Warren had it customized. It made entrances and exits easier.

I reached for the hidden lock. Much to my surprise, it was already opened.

_So that's how Spider-Man got in_, I realized.

I looked around, took a calming breath and dove to the ground below.

I flipped through the air, adjusting my fall so that I would face the sky, not the ground.

I'll only get one shot at this, I reminded myself.

If I failed, I could always hide in the Middleverse. But I wasn't about to do that. Not unless I really had to. Safety nets make you careless.

I aimed the grappling hook launcher at the roof of Worthington tower. With a push of a button, a steel cable zoomed into the sky. One second passed. Then another. Then another.

On the fourth second, the cable embedded itself in the roof's ledge. I tugged on it just in case. Reassured that yes, it was secure, I pushed the second button on the launcher. With a barely audible WOOSH, the cable pulled me up to the rooftop.

"Wow," Spider-Man said, his voice coming from somewhere above, "That was kind of cool."

Later, I would acknowledge that he was right – it was kind of neat, especially considering that I didn't have Kurt's agility or Wolverine's life-long martial arts training. But at the time, all I could do was breathe a sigh of relief.

I mean, it's been a while since I swung between skyscrapers.

As I came closer to the roof, the cable slowed down, giving me just enough momentum to push off the wall, release the cable, flop over the ledge and land on the roof, feet first.

The cable WOOSHED behind me as it crawled back into the grappling hook launcher.

I glanced around. Rogue and Psylocke made it. And, amazingly enough, they were dressed up, too.

I noted that Betsy changed her costume since our last meeting. Gone was the cumbersome cape that got us in trouble so many times it wasn't even funny. She still wore a hood, only this time; it was part of a sleeveless, tightly buckled overcoat that ended where the legs began. Her boots no longer reached up all the way up to her knees. The wide, almost fluffy sleeves were replaced with the more skin-tight ones. Her gloves, on the other hand, got a few inches longer. I noticed that the new costume boasted a darker shade of purple then the previous one. The boots and gloves, which used to be dark purple, were now completely black. I wondered what brought on this shift.

Rogue stood nearby, her arms folded. She gave me a quick this-better-be-good look. Then, she noticed Spider-Man.

"OH MY GOD! You are…"

Judging by that little outburst, Spider-Man noticed her.

"…Rogue," the ever-so-lovely gothic belle supplied.

"Yeah… Rogue" Spider-Man struggled to remember how to breathe "I am sorry. It's just that… well, I thought I would ever meet an actual X-Man."

"What's he so happy about?" Rogue mumbled.

"I dunno," I shook my head, "Can you tell him that I am an X-Man too?"

"Shion, your ego is dangerous enough," Rogue quipped quietly, "Do you _really_ need someone to stroke it?"

"Always."

Rogue smiled: "Just making sure. Hey, Spider-Man?"

"Yeah," the webslinging hero looked up

"This is Ecto. He is one of us, so stop bugging him."

"Well, I can see that now," Spider-Man said ruefully. Then, motioning at Psylocke, he added, "Is she an X-Man too?"

Betsy looked at him like he just called football 'soccer'.

"Have you ever heard of Psylocke?" she asked

Spider-Man thought it over for a minute

"Yeah," he finally pronounced, "she is that British girl who attacked the Helicarrier a year ago!"

Psylocke chuckled: "Yeah, that was fun. Well, except for the part where the entire Telepath Division tried to fry my brain but, you know, you win some you lose some."

"Wow." I was sure that beneath the mask, Spider-Man's jaw was hanging wide open.

"And speaking of trespassing on other people's property," I said before we could get completely off-topic, "What the heck were you doing in Warren Worthington's apartment?"

"Well…" Spider-Man paused, "I was investigating the scene of the crime."

"Police already searched every inch of it," I pointed out," What were you hoping to find?"

"You know, I could ask you the same question," Spider-Man's lenses glinted suspiciously

It would've been easy to answer that. It certainly would of saved us lots of trouble. But I couldn't risk exposing Warren's secret.

"It's OK," said Psylocke, "Spider-Man knows Warren is a mutant."

"How did she…" Spider-Man asked.

"You don't know how to shield your surface thoughts, do you?" Psylocke smiled.

"Surface thoughts?"

"It's like this," I started to explain, "Imagine being stuck in a cheap motel where walls are so thin you can hear everything that's going on in other rooms. For the most part, you can block the noises out. But sometimes, they get so loud (or unusual) you can't help but notice them. Those are surface thoughts."

"Every impulse, every secret, every fear, every desire," Psylocke added. "If you don't have a whole lot of self-control, I can pick it up in seconds."

"I have plenty of self-control," Spider-Man protested.

"Not in this costume you don't," Psylocke quipped.

"Alright, alright, whatever," Spider-Man sighed in exasperation, "Just don't go into my head, OK?"

"Sure. Don't worry," smiled Psylocke, "It's probably full of spider-webs anyway."

"Great," I said curtly, "Now that that's settled, we need to figure out what we're going to do next."

"Well, we can try to work together," Spider-Man shrugged innocently

"It's a good idea." I acknowledged, "but I am not sure it's actually plausible."

"Why?" asked Psylocke

"Because if we work together, we are going to have to trust each other," I explained, "We'll need to coordinate with each other, cover for each other, share information with each other. We can't really do that, because, well, some of us got secret identities to hide."

"How about we just ditch the secret identities?" Rogue suggested

She had a point. In my experience, if you want someone to trust you, you are going to have to give out your secret identity sooner or later. Otherwise, things get a little too complicated for comfort.

"I don't know…" Psylocke toyed with the fabric of her hood.

"Well, if worse comes to worse, you can always mind-wipe him." I pointed out.

"Wait a minute!" I could hear genuine fear in Spider-Man's voice, "Mind wipes? As in wiping out memories?"

"Trust me," I assured him, "when you find out who she is, you'll understand."

"Alright… I'll do it," Psylocke lowered her head, "but if any of this gets on the Internet…"

"It won't," Spider-Man promised, "I swear."

Psylocke looked at him thoughtfully. Finally, she nodded.

"So, do we reveal our secret ID's now?" she asked

"No," Spider-Man shook his head, "I mean, not here. Not out in the open."

"Out in the open?" Rogue rolled her eyes, "We on the top of a skyscraper!"

"Exactly," Spider-Man exclaimed, "we stand out!"

Rogue groaned wearily: "Ecto was right. You are a paranoid web-head."

"Whatever," I sighed, echoing Rogue's sentiment, "Do you have a better alternative?"

"Sure," Spider-Man nodded eagerly, "how about we meet over by Empire State University."

"Because, you know, that's _so_ not public," Rogue commented sarcastically.

"Well, if we are all out of costume, no one will pay any attention to us."

Rogue looked at Spider-Man with a delicious combination of skepticism and annoyance. I couldn't agree with her more.

"If we are out of costume," I pointed out, "how the heck are you going to know who we are?"

"Psylocke over there is a telepath, right?" Spider-Man replied, "She can find me."

"I thought you wanted me to stay out of your mind," Psylocke reminded him.

"Oh yeah," Spider-Man realized, "Well, you can just… look for my surface thoughts or whatever it is you do."

"Just make sure you think of someone other then Rogue," Psylocke smiled, "because that last thought was wrong on so many levels."

Rogue's annoyed glare turned downright poisonous.

"What?" Spider-Man raised his hands, "What did I think?"

"I was just teasing you," Psylocke laughed, "Relax. The whole nerdy goody-two-shoes thing really isn't working for you."

Spider-Man mumbled something I wasn't sure I wanted to understand.

"Anyway," he said aloud, "I'll see you at ESU in an hour. Later."

He shot a web at a nearest building. Within seconds, he was miles away.

"You know, Shion," Rogue said quietly, "I think you finally found your soul-mate."

"What?" I shrugged innocently, "Am I really that annoying?"

"Sometimes," Rogue admitted.

"Damn. That sucks."

Rogue opened the door that led to the stairs.

"Don't worry," she smiled, "The rest of the time, you are the best thing to come along in quite a while. "

I froze. Literally. If Betsy didn't give me a not-so-gentle nudge, I probably would've stayed on the roof of Worthington Tower for quite a while.

Rogue doesn't give those kinds of compliments very often. I learned to savor them. At least for a little while.

I took off my mask and followed Betsy and Rogue.

My day was about out to get a whole lot more interesting.

To be Continued… 

**Disclaimer:** Adrian Veidt, Dr. Occult, John Constantine, Dr. Fate, Zaruel, Shazam, Enchantress, Faust, Boston Brand, Kid Eternity, Madam Xanadu, Tempest, Sentinel, Zatanna Zatara, Spectre, Phantom Stranger and The Endless are properties of DC Comics. Green Goblin and Proteus are properties of Marvel Comics. The alternate versions of Legion and Mastermind are based on the characters that belong to Marvel Comics.


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